


Under the Red Hand

by allmyshipshavesunk



Series: The Shield [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Black Widow - Freeform, Gen, Origins, Red Room
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmyshipshavesunk/pseuds/allmyshipshavesunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalia is on her own, begging and stealing in an attempt to make a dent in the never ending hunger. When she gets the opportunity to become something more, to be someone special, a part of something, she willingly takes it. However the mysterious Red Hand organization proves to be much more sinister than she was led to believe. If she wants to be the best, or even just survive, she'll have to fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Natural

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a big history buff, but I'm not an expert at all which means that I can't promise total accuracy. The medieval knowledge I do have is mostly limited to places like England and France, i.e. not Russia which means that if there are any Russian history experts I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. Also, this story is based off Black Widow's traditional origins, but it of course won't follow it exactly.

　　Natalia wandered through the village market, doing her best to take in everything around her while also avoiding notice. She watched for distracted merchants who left an opening for her to sneak in and relieve them of their wares, for market visitors who left their money pouches exposed to her nimble fingers, it was an art form, one she knew much too well for a girl of her six years.  
　　Sometimes she thought she could hear a strangely familiar voice whispering in the back of her mind, telling her that stealing was wrong, but hunger was a far louder motivator. She didn’t think it had always been like this, hunger and hiding, but she couldn’t remember anything else.  
　　She finally saw the perfect opportunity at the stand of a traveling cloth market, the local lord’s own steward was haggling with the merchant over a bolt of cloth no doubt intended for the lady of the castle. His expensive coat hung open to reveal the heavy pouch of coins hanging from his belt.  
　　Natalia walked right up to the steward and tugged at his coat until he looked down at her with an irritated expression. “What do you want?”  
　　Not releasing her grip on his coat Natalia looked up with her best plaintive expression, “Please sir, can’t you spare a few coins for a poor orphaned child.”  
　　The man tried to pull away but Natasha kept her grip on his coat, “Please sir.”  
　　With a disgusted glance at her grubby face and hands the steward finally pulled away roughly, pushing her back, “If you’re in such dire straits then go to the church, ‘tis their duty to see to such things.”  
　　Natalia wiped away tears and murmured back “Yes sir.” She wandered off with a dejected slump to her shoulders. It wasn’t until she had reached the cover of an alleyway that she ceased her false tears and let a triumphant smile slip across her face as she felt the heavy weight of the steward’s purse under her ragged shift.  
　　“That was smart, getting him to pull away so he wouldn’t feel you lift his purse.”  
　　Natalia froze and then turned to face the speaker. He was about thirty with thick blond hair and icy blue eyes that seemed to see right through her, or perhaps more importantly right through her shift to the contraband underneath.  
　　Almost as if on instinct she started up the cheers again, “I’m sorry sir,” she sniffed loudly, “I’ll give it back. I know it was a bad thing to do, but after папа died and мама got sick we ran out of money and-” she took a ragged breath and wiped her eyes with a grubby hand, “and we haven’t eaten in days. I just wanted to help my family.”  
　　The man burst out laughing, startling away Natalia’s tears, “By my sword you are a clever little wench aren’t you? You nearly had me fooled for a moment there. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen such natural talent in all my days.” He knelt down in front of her, putting himself right at her level. “I can make you even better, I can make you the best this world has ever seen. What’s your name sweeting?”  
　　Natalia hesitated then decided she really had nothing to lose, and being the best at something sounded nice. “Natalia.”  
　　“Ivan, Ivan Petrovitch.” He removed his single red glove and took her fingers in his, bringing them lightly to his smiling lips, “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance Natalia.”


	2. Chapter 2

　　Natalia tore at the bread like an animal, putting as much of it as possible into her mouth at once. She wanted to savor it, to enjoy the luxury of eating something that wasn’t days old or covered in filth, or in most cases both, something that she hadn’t had to steal, but her survival instincts pushed her to fill her stomach while she had the chance.   
　　Across the table Petrovits watched her eat, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. “Tell me, how did you come to be on your own? I think we both know the story you gave me before was a lie.”  
　　Natalia reluctantly stopped shoveling food into her mouth and shrugged, “Don’t know, can’t remember.”  
　　Petrovits smiled, “Good, where we’re going the past means nothing, you must think only of the future, the future that we will create.”  
　　Natalia considered this for a moment, it had been a long time since she had though of anything but the present, anything but finding her next mark, her next meal, her next source of shelter. Her life had been the same for as long as she could remember, she had only her name to indicate it had ever been anything different, and she’d never had reason to think it would ever change. “You are saying that I can choose my future?”  
　　The man threw his head back and laughed, “No my little feather head,” he leaned forward to look her right in the eye, “you are going to be the future, and not just the future of Russia, no, you will be the future of the world.” Quickly changing subjects Ivan turned to look out the small open window of the tavern where they were taking their meal, “Come, tis a long road we have ahead of us and eve shall soon be upon us.” Petrovits pushed away from the heavy wooden table and stalked out of the inn towards his horse.  
　　Natalia took a moment to secure the remaining bread under her shift, right next to the money pouch she’d stolen earlier, and pour as much stew into her mouth as she could possibly manage, before scurrying off after her strange new companion.  
　　Petrovits already had his horse waiting just outside the inn by the time Natalia ran out. Natalia’s experience with horses was limited to the overworked beasts that the villagers used, the occasional charger or rouncey ridden by a passing knight, and of course the palfreys that the lord and his family would ride. Yet even with this limited knowledge Natalia felt quite certain that the horse before her now was the most magnificent one in existence.  
　　He was as black and dark as a moonless night and his coat gleamed so that Natalia thought she might be able to see her own reflection. The destrier stood so tall that Natalia could have nearly walked right under his stomach, and he stood nearly even with this master, who was himself one of the tallest men Natalia had ever seen. He wasn’t skinny or underfed like the village nags, or thick and heavy like the plow horses either, he was all lean muscle and untapped power just waiting to spring into action. He was just waiting to toss off his bindings and run free, he was just waiting for the right moment.  
　　Natalia placed a gentle hand on the animal’s neck, as near to his head as she could reach, and then traced her way to the saddle. Rather than being decorative, as was customary, the equipment bore only a single mark, a blood-red hand print on the saddle.  
　　Tracing her finger over the print the little girl tilted her red head up so she could look at Petrovits, “Are you a knight? Is this the sign of your lord?”  
　　“Something like that little one,” half of his face crooked up in a smile, “now up you go.” He lifted Natalia and placed her in front of the saddle before swinging up behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

　　“Wake up, we’re here.”  
　　Natalia shot up so quickly she likely would have fallen from her perch if Ivan had not been holding onto her. She immediately took in her surroundings, the horse beneath her, Petrovits’ arms around her, and the massive gates ahead of them, guarded by a knight in full armor featuring the same red hand as the saddle she was sitting on.  
　　“Who goes there?” The guard called out.  
　　“Ivan Petrovits, with a guest for the Red Hand.”  
　　Apparently satisfied with this answer the guard called to someone on the other side of the barrier and the gate slowly swung open. With a nudge of his heels Petrovits guided his mount through the open gate. “This, little one, is a sight few have set eyes on, and even fewer have done so and survived, this is the Castle of the Red Hand, you are indeed fortunate.”  
　　Natalia just nodded, the sight of the castle had rendered her speechless. It was massive, far larger than that of the lord of her former village, and made of a dark and unfamiliar stone. From each turret there flew a black flag adorned by a red hand print, with matching banners flanking the heavy oaken door. There were few windows, and most of them were so small that Natalia did not think she would be able to fit her head through them and the rest were covered with heavy iron bars. It seemed that whoever built this castle had wanted very much to keep things out, or perhaps rather to keep things in. For a moment she thought she could see a face through one of the upper windows, but then it was all dark again.  
　　When they had nearly reached the door Ivan dismounted and helped Natalia to the ground, and then handed off the reins to a young boy. No sooner had Ivan pounded his meaty fist against the door than it began to slowly swing open. An old woman, who did not appear nearly strong enough to move the heavy door, beckoned them in and closed the door behind them.   
　　Ignoring Petrovits she immediately turned her attentions to Natalia, she swept her beady black eyes up and down the length of her, circling her like a carrion bird surveying their prey. “How many years are you girl?”  
　　Ivan answered, “She doesn’t know, but she looks to be seven years by my guess.”  
　　The woman pursed her shriveled lips together, “Small for seven, and she ‘asn’t a scrap of meat on ‘er,.” She bent down and grabbed Natalia’s chin firmly and pulling her mouth open, peering at her teeth. The little girl jerked her head away and pressed up against Petrovits. The big man only laughed, “Zounds woman, think you that she be a horse?”  
　　The old woman glared at them both, “Tis my duty to see that she be ‘ealthy, we’ve no use for the sickly.”  
　　“She’s plenty fit, she wouldn’t have survived so long alone if she weren’t. She’s sharp too, she may have the body of a child but she has the cunning of a man, and you can make her strong.”  
　　Natalia shifted uncomfortably, she was feeling more and more like a horse up for auction.  
　　The old woman nodded reluctantly, “Very well, I shall take ‘er to the council. You may be off.”  
　　Petrovits smile triumphantly, “You’ll see, she’ll be the very best of them all.” With that he turned and disappeared down a corridor.  
　　For a moment Natalia had the irrational urge to run after him, she may have only known him a few hours but he was far more friendly and inviting than the old crone or the dark hallway she was dragging Natalia down.


	4. Chapter 4

　　“Wait ‘ere.” The old woman left Natalia in the hallway and stepped through the doorway into the chamber. If she leaned forward just a bit she could see most of the interior. A massive table sat directly in the center of the room with an impressive chandelier hanging over it. The room was windowless, leaving the candles in the chandelier, the fire in the hearth, and a few torches on the walls to light the space. Nine people sat around the table, six men and three women, all dressed in the manner of nobility. The man at the head of the table was dressed even finer than the others, with robes of scarlet and thick fur, the candlelight sparkling off the gold chain around his neck and his many jewels.  
　　The old woman went straight to this man and leaned down to speak softly in his ear, he smiled, the way Natalia imagined a wolf might smile, and then he nodded. “Come in.” He called out in a voice that would never leave room for questions or arguments, this was the kind of voice you obeyed.  
　　Natalia walked into the room slowly, trying to give off a confidence that she didn’t really feel at all. Everyone at the table was watching her, each one bearing a similar calculating look as they took her in, from her wild red curls to her mud encrusted bare feet.  
　　“What’s your name girl?” Asked the man at the head of the table, obviously the leader of the group.  
　　“Natalia milord.” She kept her chin up, her green eyes trained right on the man.  
　　“Only Natalia? Have you no family name?” One of the women questioned, her pale brow furrowed with skepticism.  
　　“No milady, I do not.” Natalia cocked her head to the side for a moment then conceded, “Well, I suppose I do, but I do not know what it is.”  
　　The woman shared a look with the leader, as if seeking permission of some sort, and the man nodded once. “How old are you Natalia?” The woman asked, it seemed she was taking the lead now.  
　　The little redhead screwed up her face, trying to think, then shook her head and shrugged, “Don’t know that either.”  
　　The woman smiled a little and raised a thin brow, “What do you know?”  
　　Natalia cocked her head to one side and thought, “Well, I suppose I know how to steal and hide good. No one ever catched me until today.”  
　　The woman smiled, apparently pleased with this, “You don’t know your family name, so I assume that you have no family to speak of?”  
　　“None milady.” There was no sadness in Natalia’s words, being alone was how it had always been for her, how could she miss something she knew nothing about?  
　　The woman smiled again and leaned over to whisper in the leader’s ear, “She’s just a wisp of a thing but she seems perfectly healthy nonetheless, and she’s obviously resourceful and intelligent. Best of all she’s a blank slate, we can make her ours in every way. I believe she may even prove to be the best one yet.”  
　　The leader nodded as the lady spoke to him and then smiled when she had finished. “Well said Lady Katerina, well said. Are we all in agreement then? Shall we welcome Natalia as the final member of our venture?” His question was met with a chorus of ‘Aye’.   
　　That settled the leader turned to Natalia with a wolfish smile, his white teeth gleaming in the candlelight, “Well then, welcome Natalia, to the Red Hand.”  
　　Natalia smiled shyly, pleased at the attention from all these noble people and at the idea of belonging, but something was niggling at the back of her mind, making her just the slightest bit uneasy as she wondered just what she had gotten herself into.  
　　  
　　  
　　“You’ll be introduced to the rest of our girls soon, tomorrow perhaps, but I’ll get you settled first. You’ll be wanting food no doubt, and then you’ll have a bath and we’ll find you something better than those rags to wear.” As Lady Katerina lead Natalia through the castle and she couldn’t help but think of how much more inviting the halls seemed with this dignified lady than they had with the old crone.  
　　Lady Katerina down one hall and up another until they reached what seemed to be some sort of dining hall. She indicated for Natalia to take a seat and then seated herself after pulling a velvet rope hanging in the corner.  
　　A moment later the old woman appeared and bowed her head, “Milady?”  
　　“Please bring supper for myself and the girl.”  
　　“Right away milady.” The old servant nodded her head and hobbled out of the room.  
　　“Now I suppose you are quite curious about who we are and what this place is aren’t you?”   
　　Natalia nodded shyly.  
　　“I cannot tell you everything, but I can tell you enough to ease your confusion at least a little. The Red Hand is made up of like minded individuals, individuals who believe in a powerful and prosperous future for our beloved Russia, who want to see her take her rightful place on the world’s stage, and who are willing to do whatever they must in order to achieve that goal.”  
　　The Lady swept out her hands, “This, is our castle, the very heart and soul of the Red Hand. Which is, of course, why it must remain secret. If any of our enemies were to find this place, well,” she paused and fixed Natalia with an icy stare, “even the strongest body cannot survive a strike to the heart.” She relaxed and her eyes seemed to soften, now resembling an open sky rather than a frozen wasteland.   
　　“If we wish to succeed where others have failed, we must of course think and act differently, do what none will ever expect. That, little one, is where you come in.” She ran a finger down Natalia’s cheek and through one of her less matted curls. “You may not be much to look at right now, but in a few years when a man looks at you he will see only creamy white skin, big green eyes, and hair like fire. He will be so distracted by your allure he will never realize just what you are capable of. I shan’t lie to you Natalia, twill be hard, the hardest thing you have ever done, but,” she touched Natalia’s chest with a pointed fingernail, “you have the heart of a fighter, and I believe that you can do it.”  
　　Natalia curled up on her little pallet and let out a contented sigh, today was without a doubt the best day of her short life. She’d had not just one but two wonderful meals, she had somehow found favor with great Lords and Ladies, and had spent her evening in the company of one. She’d even gotten to take a real bath with actual soap. And now instead of sleeping on the ground in an alley she was sleeping on a plush rug by a warm fire, wrapped in a blanket of the softest material she had ever felt, and wearing a nightgown made of something light and soft. She didn’t quite understand everything that Lady Katerina had told her, or what was in store for her here, but it couldn’t be so bad, after all, what could a fine lady like that know of hardship?

**Author's Note:**

> So those of who are familiar with Black Widow's origins know that there is going to be some rough stuff coming for her. When this does come up I'll make sure to adjust the tags and ratings as necessary, although I won't be going past Teen. So, I realized while researching that there is an organization in the Marvel Universe called The Hand (seems to be associated with Elektra, but I don't really know, I'm more MCU, my knowledge of the comics is pretty limited) so I thought I would clarify that The Red Hand is my version of the Red Room, and has nothing to do with The Hand.


End file.
